Saturday looked to be a very busy day. We went for a short ride from Malaucene to Suzette and Lafare. The last portion was dramatically downhill for us, but we encountered a family heading uphill. First, papa, pedaling away on an upright bike, then one young adolescent pulling off to the side for a rest, then another adolescent (helmet askew) fighting what looked ultimately to be a losing battle with gravity, then maman, not 1 km out of Lafare, off her bike and pushing. We speculated that the lunchtime conversation among the group might be chilly. We went on to the Roque d’Alric and then home via Le Barroux (where we failed to find a spot to enjoy a pastis). We were home by 11:30, which was good because there was still much to do.
After lunch we headed to Vaison to look for a telephone store because Rosanna had it in her head she wanted to liberate herself from the Blueberry by purchasing a micro-sim from a French mobile phone carrier for her iPad. First we had to wait for the store to open after lunch, which seemed a perfect opportunity for the pastis we had not yet had, but, alas, Vaison caters more to touris
ts and we did not find the kind of old men’s bar where pastis is served (without the necessity of ordering a meal). Once the telephone store (that was its name) opened, things became very confusing. Photocopies of passports were made, contractual documents were generated, and at the end of it all I left with a turbostick for my macbook (49Î) and Rosanna left with nothing, except the partial success of being able to check e-mail without going to the Blueberry, but still having to go there (or close by) to Skype a landline. And now I have discovered there is but one spot on the terrace where the network is strong enough to pick up the signal.
All of the above to-ing and fro-ing with the telephone people took so long (there were difficulties posed by my QWERTY keyboard) that our next agenda item – a trip to Chateau d’Hugues had to be put off and we had to race back to Beaumont du Ventoux for the 4 pm start of the annual Antonini family concert, which was, as it was last year, very good indeed. It was only marred by the fact that some not-very-sweet-smelling locals sat next to me and the woman shifted endlessly on the pew. I finally had to go and stand at the back of the church for the last two numbers.
Afterwards we had a glass or two of rose with Malcolm and Francoise and invited them for dinner on Thursday.
Your "adventures" in the telephone store are not the usual fare one finds in a travel blog, but I still found the account oddly compelling in a way. Also, good move in the church to escape the unwanted odours and squirmy lady.
ReplyDeleteCheck your gmail sometime, I've sent you a short dispatch.
Patrick